The Grace of the Valar
by Religious Truths
Summary: Arwen is pregnant, and she must journey to Lothlorien to bid her kin farewell. Possible first of a series. Mostly AragornArwen, but involved some FaramirEowyn. Please read and review!
1. Voices

This is my first attempt at a seriously serious piece of fan fiction. So please be nice! Eowyn's characterization will be more appropriate next chapter!

**Disclaimer:** I love everything about Lord of the Rings, but sadly, I don't own it. Perhaps equally as regretfully I would like to point out that I'm not making any money writing this. 

The Grace of the Valar 

Arwen stood on the balcony, looking over the White City – her home - on her wedding night. The night air was cool, and her breath crystallized in the air. "Oh, Valar," she thought, "I hardly believe that even with your wishes things could have turned out so beautifully."

She felt her husband approaching; her elven senses had not deserted her. Yet she shivered as Aragorn put his arms around her waist and buried his face in her neck, breathing in her scent. "Mela nin," he whispered softly. 

"Estel," she breathed. He was hers, truly her Estel. Aragorn might belong to Middle Earth and King Elessar to the people of Gondor, but Estel was hers. He placed gentle kisses along the line of her neck and shoulder, and again she shivered. "Yes," she though, "he is mine." Twisting in his arms, she embraced him and claimed his mouth as her own in sweet surrender. 

Four Months Later 

Arwen, Elven Queen of Gondor, was decidedly amused. She sat beside her husband at the Head Table in the Banquet Hall. Tonight, they had called together a feast to announce to the public the hope for the spring that they both had shared for the past month. It seemed hardly fair to Arwen that she should surrender her beautiful little secret to the world so soon, but the advisors had assured her that it was proper to do so at this time. At times, the customs of Men where still strange to Arwen, who was used to the gentle, natural way that the Elves treated everything.  True, often had men, mostly Rangers and the wounded, come to stay in Rivendell and Lothlorien. But it was different from living among them. 

Aragorn looked over at his wife, and caught his breath at how beautiful she was. After all these years, he found it hard to believe that she was truly his. He grinned at Arwen, his eyes expressing all the joy that his smile felt short of showing. 

Arwen smiled back at him. It was not difficult to stay behind, separated from her Kin, when she had men such as this one.  Her father and grandmother had yet to set sail for the West, but she knew that the day would soon come. And when it came, Arwen knew that she would stand strong, because she had such strength standing behind her that would hold her up should she fail. 

"_And I have this new hope,"_ Arwen though, glancing at her slightly swelled belly, _"It will be some months before this child comes into the world, but what joys shall there be when he comes…"_ In all the long years of her life, she had never dreamed that she would be a mother. It had seemed so far from her grasp so often… she glanced up, distracted by the laughter of Eowyn, who was sitting beside her, and her betrothed, the Lord Faramir, Steward of Gondor. The two where so happy in one another's company that Arwen felt truly glad for them. Faramir could easily melt the ice in the gray eyes of the White Lady of Rohan, and the Shieldmaiden could cause deep, joyful laughter to spring forth from the contemplative Captain and Steward. Eowyn was the closest confidant and friend that Arwen had found in the White City so far, and she would sorely miss her company when she wed the Steward in three moons time and went with him to Ithilien in a fortnight's time. _Although, _thought Arwen, _seeing as that Eowyn will be more than slightly vexed that I have kept this secret from her for so long, it mightn't be so bad at all._ She smiled as Eowyn whispered something into Faramir's ear, causing him to snort with laughter. Aragon, who had been involved in a discussion with Legolas Greenleaf, Gandalf the White – who had chosen remain in the White City rather than return to Lothlorien with Elrond until the time of their departure from these shores – and some members of the King's Council, looked over at them and grinned at Arwen. He was as glad as she was that these two friends of these where so happy with each other. Gandalf leaned over to say something to the King, and Elessar nodded and, in standing up, gently commanded the attention of everyone in the Hall. Legolas, who had been known to her for well over a thousand and a half years now, glanced over at Arwen with a knowing sort of laughter in his eyes. Arwen had never truly befriended the Mirkwood elf, as she had spent many of her years in the company of the Lady of the Wood, but she felt a glad sort of a connection with one of the few of her Kin that where left on these shores now. She knew that he would celebrate this knowledge of the coming babe with the happy reverence with which the Eldar treated such things, and the knowledge gladdened her heart. 

"People of Gondor, friends, " he said in the low, even voice ringing with and undertone of deep joy that caused a shiver to run down Arwen's spine, "The Queen and I wish to announce to you that in five moons, we will welcome a babe and an Heir to the Throne of Gondor into the world." He would have continued but for the loud cheer that erupted from the people in the Hall. 

Arwen, who was more than slightly surprised by the reaction and whose ears where ringing from the deafening noise around her, hardly had time to brace herself before she was indignantly chided by the Lady Eowyn. "Milady Arwen, I can hardly believe that you kept this to yourself! How long have you known?" but there was a happy smile on her face and in her eyes. 

"Only a month," she replied amusedly, "So there is hardly any reason to chide me for it.

"It would explain your absent mindedness of late," Eowyn said, with a dangerous grin on her face, "As Faramir and I where discussing moving the wedding date forwards to tomorrow, traveling South and selling oliphants for living." 

"What?" Arwen spurted in a most un-elf-like way, and chocked laughingly. "You really shouldn't!"

"Milady," Eowyn said in a seemingly shocked voice, "I'm not sure pregnancy is at all suiting you."

Arwen was about to respond, and then suddenly, she heard a voice in her head.

_Hee, hee, hee… hearing voices… well, let me know if you want more! Reviews are appreciated.  Sorry for not getting the mark over Eowyn's name, I'm trying to figure it out. Forgive me!_


	2. Flowers and Leaving

I was really happy about getting reviews… seriously, was dancing around the room. But that's just me. Sorry about the people that I haven't mentioned… please review again! I wrote this without checking my email, so I don't know if there're more reviews in there (please, please). I'm a bit scared about posting the next chapter, as I've had no flamers yet. I really need to write my stupid AP essay now… homework sucks. 

ME132: Eowyn and Arwen just seem like they'd be good friends. They're so different, but they have a lot in common. Thanks for the review! * points to favorite author list *

Galandria: thank you! 

Mata: Here you go! Hope it's not disappointing. 

Voldie: Sorry to dissapoint, but there's no incest in this. 

The Grace of the Valar 

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_"Milady," Eowyn said in a seemingly shocked voice, "I'm not sure pregnancy is at all suiting you."_

_Arwen was about to respond, and then suddenly, she heard a voice in her head_.

_"Undomiel…" _ the voice spoke. It was not unfamiliar to her. 

"Naneth…" (a/n I don't know how to say "grandmother")  It was indeed the Lady of the Wood. 

"Undomiel… come to us. Our time has come, we will journey to Valinor.  Your Ada is here. Come bid us farewell."

"Yes…" said Arwen softly, gently. She rose slowly from the banquet table.  

"Arwen?" asked Aragorn, concern bright in his eyes. 

"My love," whispered Arwen in Elvish, "I have to leave you for a time."

Aragorn's brow furrowed. "Why?"

"The Lady of the Wood has bid me come. It is time for me to say goodbye to my family. My grandmother told me to waste no time, I must go now."

"Of course," said Aragorn, though he didn't quite seem happy with the idea, "But I will come with you."

"No," said Arwen, gently shaking her head, "You know that you cannot. You have a duty to your people; they need you now."

"I have a duty to my wife!" Aragon's exclamation was perhaps louder than he had meant it to be, the rest of the table turned to look at the two. "Arwen, in your condition, you should not ride out alone."

The Queen's eyes flashed. "I am pregnant, not incapacitated! If you intend to lock me up for the next moons…"

"Arwen…" Aragorn said worriedly, "Arwen, I'm worried about you. I love you, and I do not wish to see you hurt."

His wife's eyes softened, and she said in a low, mild voice, "I know you do. But trust me. I will not be long," she flashed him a smile, "And I am the faster rider. You would just slow me down."

"Undomiel!" the King protested, though much of his anxiety had disappeared, "But I still don't like this idea of you being on your own."

"She won't be!" interjected another voice, "If milady will let me accompany her, that is."

Incredulous stares turned towards the end of the table. Eowyn said firmly, "I will come along."

Arwen considered for a moment, then slowly nodded. "I will be glad for your company. A shieldmaiden and an Elve could hold their own in any situation, I am sure."

Aragorn seemed satisfied with the situation. "Then I will not worry for your safety, love; I know you both to be formidable fighters, should it come to that. But what of Faramir?"

Eowyn blushed, as did her betrothed, "It is perhaps because of him that I wish to leave the city. Our wedding is not a fortnight away, and yet I would fear for my honor should I chose to stay. And," speaking less hurriedly and sitting up straight, "these walls of stone are becoming oppressive. I wish for just a few days of freedom before I consign myself to being the prim and proper wife of the Steward."

Faramir laughed, pulled his betrothed to a standing position, and spun her around, her hair fanning out in a circle of gold. As Eowyn's laughter rang out, he pulled her close, and whispered, "Milady, you will never be prim and proper. And if you should one day dare to become so, I will send you to Edoras to cure you of the affliction." Then he kissed her. 

The people in the hall, who had remained remarkably unconscious of the events taking place at the head of the, all turned, cheered, and clapped. Aragorn quietly called a servant over, and asked him to ready the horses of Queen Arwen and the Lady Eowyn. The young boy quickly hurried away, stumbling in his excitement to do the King's bidding.

The King and Queen chose that moment to quietly slip away from the gathering. 

Aragorn and Arwen walked side by side, the material of Arwen's royal robe dragging quietly on the floor, their steps echoing in the moonlit corridor. They walked in silence until they reached a small balcony that overlooked the fields of Pelennor.  Arwen stood, her hands resting on the balustrade, and Aragorn looked at her. He silently wondered how skin could be so pale, and lips so red. His wife fit in perfectly with the flowers that were growing all around them. He covered her small perfect hands with his battle-worn ones, and joined her in looking out into the night, over his city.  A small sigh escaped his lips. 

Arwen gently looked up to him, and he was frightened by how small and breakable she looked. "Your people love you so," she whispered. 

"I know," Aragorn said helplessly, "I keep fearing that I will lead them to their doom. They trust me so – that little boy – they think that I will always keep them safe. What if I fail?"

"You will not fail," Arwen said, "I know you, and I trust you. This life trusts you," she placed Aragorn's hand over her womb.

Estel stood silent for a moment, staring in wonder as he felt the first stirrings of life from his child.  He whispered, in amazement, "Et Eärello Endorenna utúlien. Sinome maruvan at Hildinyar tenn' Ambar-metta."

"Yes…" whispered Arwen. "I know that you will love and protect your people and your son with every ounce of strength within you, because I know how you love me. And I know that your people can love and trust you because of how I love and trust you."

Aragorn's answer was not in words, but in the kiss he gently placed upon her lips. Arwen drew his head down towards her and returned it fully, throwing into it all the desperation resulting from her departure, and all the love for him that dwelt deep in her heart. 

They where interrupted by a young groom, who respectfully cleared his throat, and, once he was certain that he had the attention of the royal couple, hurriedly announced, "Milady, your horse is ready," and departed. 

Aragorn cupped his wife's face gently in his hands. "Undomiel, come back to me soon."

Arwen smiled back at him. "Estel, I gave up my immortality for you." She traced the Evenstar that hung around her husband's neck, "Do you think that I will be separated from you one moment longer than I must be?" A tear lingered on her eyelash.

"No," whispered Aragorn. Arwen gently kissed him one more time, and then quickly turned to walk away, her dress billowing behind her. 

Aragorn stood and looked silently out into the night. He saw a small ray of light, accompanied by what he thought must be the sound of horses' hooves. Arwen's white horse and Eowyn's gray one raced out into the deep night. Arwen's deep purple riding clock billowed out behind her, and it seemed to Aragorn that there was a steady, dim glow about her. _"I love you,"_ he whispered out to her. 

"_I love you too,_" her voice rang back to him, accompanied by a sweet breeze that carried her scent. It smelled of sweet roses and milk and ages of wisdom and hope. Aragorn sighed wistfully, and turned to go back into the bright and noisy hall. Back to his people. 

_New chapter coming soon, I hope._


	3. Riding Through the Dawn

Thank you very much to all the people who reviewed. This story just kind of has a mind of its own, and I have to see where it goes. So sorry about irregular updates! There's also that little thing called school involved, so… well, hope you like this chapter anyways. It's kind of short, and I think I'll update again later tonight. I just wanted to get this up. 

The Grace of the Valar 

The night was growing old before Arwen signaled to her white horse to slow. Eowyn, who had been riding besides her without tiring did the same. Her hair, which had lain golden about her before that night of riding, was in tangles, and her face was white and her cheeks red from the wind. 

"Milady? Why do we slow?" she asked. 

Arwen, her hair no less in a state of disarray than that of Eowyn's, answered, "It is a three day ride to Lothlorien, perhaps less if we ride fast and rest little. But you do need rest, and I do not wish to have Faramir after my blood if you arrive late and exhausted for my wedding."

Eowyn nodded, "But what of you, milady? You are with child, do you not need more rest than me?"

Arwen smiled, "Though perhaps my immortality has left me, I am an Elve, and, as such, I require little food and less sleep. I can rest my mind in the realms of my people while I ride."

Eowyn remained silent. Though she counted Arwen as her friend, and only confidant in Minas Tirith, they had never discussed Arwen's elfhood. Their friendship was strong, but it was built on the amusing and terrifying experiences of common-day life, and was perhaps strengthened by the fact that both ladies had left their homes and were living in a strange land. Though Eowyn had heard a rumor that in order to be with the King, Arwen had given up the immortality of her kind, she had never inquired to it. This was the first time that Arwen had concretely mentioned the fact that she was no Daughter of Man, and what the consequences of that might be. Eowyn did not know if she wanted to broach the subject further, for Arwen seemed much more like a legend now than like a friend. Instead, she said, "I see we have passed over the Great River, and now are in the plains of Rohan."

Arwen looked at her, "Yes, we are in the lands of your home. Do you regret not seeing your kin though you are so close to home?"

The Lady of Rohan shook her golden hair, "No. My kin will come to the wedding, and Faramir has promised me that we will come to Rohan often after we are wed. And when I go from my home, it will not be forever."

Arwen simply nodded and did not reply for a time. They rode silently on as the dawn came. Finally, she broke the silence, saying, "Let us ride till midday, and then we can rest awhile and use the coolness of the evening and night to aid us in our journey."

Eowyn nodded, and both ladies urged their horses on again. Arwen's horse was a pure white steed that came of the line of Shadowfax, the lord of horses. Eowyn rode a light grey mount that had been given to her by Faramir. Both horses were light and swift, and tuned well to their riders. They made quick time, both enjoying the beauty of the plains. Not long ago had it been that all this and more might have been lost. 

But in the end, everything had been gained. Though there were none that lived that had not lost someone they loved to the great burning fire of the war, the people that still lived were happy. And though the task that lay before her was not a happy one, so was Arwen. 


	4. Nimrodel and Things Past

Here's a follow-up to that extraordinarily short chapter just then. Hope it's longer. I just re-read the appendices in the back of ROTK; I haven't read them in forever. I'm trying to mix book-Arwen in with movie-Arwen. For the sake of this, I'm going to pretend that Éowyn did not meet Elladan and Elrohir before, like she did in the book. Elrond and the twins attended the wedding of Arwen and Elessar, but they did not stay very long and none of the people of Gondor saw them. Needless to say, all within is not mine, and the poem is Tolkein's (you can find it on page 401 of book I). I also used some of the text that Legolas said in the book for Arwen.  Oh, and was for Aragorn not going to Lórien – Galadriel says to him in FOTR that "We shall not meet again." I guess it's not that an important thing to stick with, but I kinda liked it. 

The Grace of the Valar Chapter 4 

For a long time Arwen and Éowyn rode, until they came upon Parth Galan at dusk at the second day. Both wondered at their speed; it seemed as though their horses had grown wings for feet. Never had the journey from Minas Tirith been quicker, for the ladies and their horses found many hidden paths and trials that were known only to Elves and the creatures of the plains, and no army had every passed through them. The ride of the Queen of Elves and Men and the Lady of Ithilien would be sung in legend for the ages of man. 

There was another legend sung about Parth Galan: it was the place where Boromir the Brave, Son of Denethor, had fallen. Here he had been tempted by the ring and had failed, and then redeemed himself by defending the Hobbits Merry and Pippin from a host of Orcs. Arwen knew what had befallen Boromir, but Eowyn did not; the truth was kept secret from the People of Gondor so as not to sully the memory of the Great Captain. Both ladies passed the place in reverent silence, with their heads bowed. 

They had long ago passed Parth Galan, and had paused and rested for a while, and yet the solemnity of that place still hung about them. Though throughout their ride they had often spoken and laughed, they now remained silent, each wandering in her own thoughts. The Evening Star shone bright in the sky, and Arwen softly sang of the maiden Nimrodel, along whose river's banks they now rode, in her own tongue, and Eowyn strained to hear. 

When Arwen had stopped singing, Eowyn looked over to her and asked, "It sounds so mournful. Is it a sad tale that you sing of?"

Arwen paused for a moment, and slowly answered, "Some would say so. Translated into common speech, the song goes thus:

An  Elvin-maid there was of old, 

  _A shining star by day:_

_Her mantle white was trimmed with gold, _

_Her shoes of silver-grey. _

_A star was bound upon her brows, _

_A light was on her hair,_

_As sun upon the golden boughs _

_Of Lorien the fair. _

_Her hair was long, her limbs were white, _

_And fair she was and free;_

_And in the wind she went as light_

_As leaf of linden-tree._

_Beside the falls of Nimrodel, _

_By water clear and cool,_

_Her voice as falling silver fell_

_Into the shining pool. _

_Where now she wanders none can tell, _

_In sunlight or in shade;_

_For lost of yore was Nimrodel_

_And in the mountains strayed. _

_The elven-ship in haven grey _

_Beneath the mountain-lee_

_Awaited her for many a day_

_Beside the roaring sea. _

_A wind by night in Northern lands_

_Arose, and loud it cried, _

_And drove the ship from elven strands_

_Across the streaming tide. _

_When dawn came dim the land was lost, _

_The mountains sinking grey_

_Beyond their heaving waves that tossed_

_Their plumes of blinding spray. _

_Amroth beheld the fading shore _

_Now low beyond the swell, _

_And cursed the faithless ship that bore_

_Him far from Nimrodel. _

_Of old he was an Elven-king, _

_A lord of tree and glen, _

_When golden were the boughs in spring_

_In fair Lothlorien. _

_From helm to sea they saw him leap, _

_As arrow from the string, _

_And dive into the water deep, _

_As mew upon the wing. _

_The wind was in his flowing hair, _

_The foam about him shone;_

_Afar they saw him strong and fair_

_Go riding like a swan. _

_But from the West has come no word, _

_And on the Hither Shore_

_No tidings Elven-folk have heard_

_Of Amroth Evermore. _

'I cannot sing any more," said Arwen, "That is but a part, for I have forgotten much. It is long, for it tells how sorrow came upon Lothlórien, when evil was awakened in the mountains. Then many of the Elves of Nimrodel's kindred left their dwellings and departed, and she was lost far in the South, in the passes of the White Mountains; and she came not to the ship where Amroth her lover waited for her. But in the spring when the wind is in the new leaves the echo of her voice may still be heard by the falls that bear her name. And when the wind is in the South the voice of Amroth comes up from the sea; for Nimrodel flows into Anduin the Great, and Anduin flows into the Bay of Belfalas whence the Elves of Lórien set sail. But neither Nimrodel nor Amroth ever came back.

'So some would indeed say that it is a sad tale. But it is a tale of undying love also, and that can not be sad."

Eowyn nodded, "It seems so. Is Nimrodel one of your kindred? She seems very similar to you."

Arwen laughed, and it was the sound of gentle wind chimes. "They say I am far more like Lúthien Tinúviel, who forsook her immortality. Lúthien I am told is one of my foremothers, but I do not know of Nimrodel. I did not then walk this Earth. She may be – she is of the same people as my grandmother. But I do not know."

Eowyn looked on in wonder, and said, "It seems that legend comes alive around me. I have been through war and have fought against evil and prevailed – and yet the mystery of the Elves astounds me. I was eager to travel to Lórien – I remember the old songs." And she sang:

In Dwimordene, in Lórien 

_Seldom have walked the feet of Men, _

_Few mortal eyes have seen the light_

_That lies there ever, long and bright. _

_Galadriel! Galadriel!_

_Clear is the water of your well;_

_White is the star in your white hand;_

_Unmarred, unstained is leaf and land_

_In Dwimordene, in Lórien_

_More fair than thoughts of men.  _

'And yet I am now frightened," said Eowyn, "For it seems that even you have become distant and the matter of legend."

And Arwen laughed again softly, and she took care that it sounded more human and less like silver bells. "If it is legend that you fear, Lady Eowyn, then you must live in a constant state of terror. For your deeds are brave and your heart is strong, and your songs shall be sung for ages to come. As for my _daer-naneth,_ indeed she is powerful, but she is kind and gentle. You have nothing to fear from those who dwell in Lórien," and now she grinned, decidedly un-legend like. 

Eowyn smiled back, though her smile was hesitant, and said, "You are truly a friend. And yet I wonder if you would still be so kind if you knew that I had once loved the King."

Arwen turned to face her and looked her in the eye, and said in a calm voice fringed with amusement, "I do know, and I am not angry." In answer to Eowyn's questioning glance, she continued, "Do not fear, for Estel did not mention anything to me; he has never spoken save highly of you. I felt the reserve in you when we first met, and surmised as much. I do not loathe you for it. I believe that there is nothing for me to worry over, for I do not think you could ever be so happy with Estel as you are with Faramir." Her eyes twinkled. 

Eowyn smiled, "I am glad, then, that the past will not come between our friendship. And I do think that there is no one for me but Faramir. I had always feared marriage, because I thought I would surrender my freedom and myself to another; Faramir will never require this of me. He loves me and I love him. I only hope that one day that we can have what you and Aragorn share."

"You will," Arwen assured her, and there was a comforting confidence in her voice, "I have known Aragorn for some sixty years now. Over time, your relationship will deepen and your trust will grow until you loose yourselves in each other."

Eowyn replied, "Faramir and I are the Son and Daughter of lesser men, and we will not live to such a great age as an Elve or a Dúnedain. How will we ever have the chance?"

"You will. I met Estel sixty years ago, and we did not see each other again for almost thirty years. We spent a summer together in Lothlórien, and we plighted our troth on Cerin Amroth. I went back to Rivendell and he came and went often, until now, almost thirty years later, we were wed. We had time, and so we took it. You and Faramir have not quite so much time, but you spend all of it together. Who knows, perhaps the Valar will grant you a life longer than that of man for all you deeds?"

Eowyn looked at her, "You age speaks wisdom and I will trust it."

"I am glad to have you trust," Arwen replied, though she did not seem to be paying very much attention to what had just been said. Instead, she suddenly stood very still, spying in between the trees ahead and listening as a cat might. 

"While we are on the subject of age, milady, how long have you walked this earth?" asked Eowyn, not noticing the sudden change in her companion's posture. 

Suddenly, a dark figure stepped out from between the trees, quickly followed by another. Cloaks covered their faces, and a powerful voice issued forth from somewhere in the shadows. 

"That, lady, is never a good question to ask a woman."

This chapter was a little longer. Hope you liked it! I'll update as soon as possible; I should be able to write soon since it's the weekend. Please review! Thank you so much to all the nice people who took the time to review that incredibly short chapter back there…


	5. Lorien

I'm starting to like cliffhangers… maybe I should use them more often. Or not. Anyway…. No action yet, but don't worry, this isn't all fluff. Please review!

The Grace of the Valar: Chapter 5 

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_Suddenly, a dark figure stepped out from between the trees, quickly followed by another. Cloaks covered their faces, and a powerful voice issued forth from somewhere in the shadows. _

_"That, lady, is never a good question to ask a woman."_

The strangers had walked without a sound and had crept up unnoticed by Eowyn, but the as she saw the first faint figure, her sword, which had all this time hung by her side, was out in an instant and she placed herself between the Queen and the cloaked figures. "If you walk one step further, you will have this blade at your necks," she hissed, "This sword has bitten through the evil of the Witch King of Angmar, and it will not fail with two cloaked travelers."

But to her surprise, Arwen gently dismounted, slipping easily off her saddle-less horse. The cloaked figure which had remained silent looked on towards the Queen, and said, "You have not come without protection, I see; I have heard of this Lady of Rohan. I am glad that you do not ride alone. You might take care to stay your chatter, for I heard you a mile away; nonetheless, your senses still seem keen for we could not surprise you."

 Eowyn, seeing that there was no present danger, lowered her sword, though she had a confused expression on her face. Arwen smiled and, walking towards the strangers, said, "Indeed not, Elladan, and do not expect it in the future, if indeed you will not sail to Valinor with father now. But it is rude to speak while leaving others unacquainted."

"It is so," Elladan said, and, nodding his head towards the White Lady in a gesture of respect, continued, "I am Elladan, Prince of Imladris, and this is my brother Elrohir."

"…Also Prince of Imladris, if I need to specify." Elrohir had stepped forward, and Eowyn saw that he looked just like his brother Elladan. 

"Once you have finished bragging, dear brothers…" Arwen said, and rolled her eyes. 

"These are your brothers?" Eowyn asked, quite astounded. 

"That they are, and have been for some 2779 years now," Arwen said, expressing in her smile the memories that so many years with older brothers must have brought. 

"Ah, sister, so you have revealed your age! The pity, I thought it might remain in mystery forever," Elladan quipped. 

Eowyn was surprised how familiar these siblings were – she had not thought of elves save as calm and gentle, as Arwen appeared often and Legolas the Prince of Mirkwood always did. But now, there was a far more human side to them, and Eowyn enjoyed it. She even felt that she might tease the Queen a bit. "You are 2779 years old?" she asked, in an incredulous voice, "Why, I should think that you are remarkably well-preserved."

Arwen looked at her in surprise, and then grinned evilly at her. "More respect for your elders, if you please, milady!" she shot back. 

"Yes, do," quipped Elrohir, "You wouldn't want to offend the Evenstar, she gets quite nasty when she's angry. As I'm sure eight of the nine Ringwraiths could tell you."

"Come, let us ride," interrupted Elladan, "Let's not keep the Lady of the Wood waiting. It is not far now."

And as Eowyn looked around, she saw that the woods around her were beautiful, slim trees and the sunshine filtered in golden rays about them, making everything look as though wrought with gold. "How much longer, then, will it be until we get there?" she asked. 

"Perhaps another hour," said Elladan, "It is not far now, but we will ride slowly to rest the horses."

They rode on in silence, enjoying the beauty of the woods and the humor in the air. There was much love between the siblings, Eowyn observed, not unlike the bond she shared with Eomer.

Suddenly, a strange music from far of reached her ears, and she saw Arwen listening intently again, much as she had when she had heard her brothers' approach. This time, though, there was a definite smile about her face. "The music of Lothlórien," she whispered, "It never fades in beauty."

"Neither do you, milady," said Elrohir, and Eowyn got the distinct impression that Arwen wished to hit him. But the Queen of Gondor restrained herself, and Eowyn was quite glad, otherwise her entire image of the Elve would be utterly destroyed. 

Presently, the company came to a clearing in the wood, and Eowyn caught her breath. Everywhere, she saw trees, and in the trees, there were houses and stairways, and everything seemed to glow. And there were elves – elves walking, or talking quietly in the wood, all clad in light-colored cloth that seemed to glow. 

Looking over at her companions, she saw an almost eerie glow about them. Arwen was looking up, her face illuminated by the tranquil light everywhere. "I have dwelt here so long, and yet it is still so beautiful," she whispered. 

Elladan and Elrohir silently nodded. Just then, Eowyn saw a company of Elves approach them. 

Elladan slid of his horse; Arwen and Elrohir already had dismounted. Eowyn quickly followed suit, and she gazed in amazement as her horse turned and quietly walked away, following the horses of the other riders. 

But she was again distracted as the Elves she had seen earlier drew closer, and she looked in wonder at them.

In front walked a lady with long, golden hair, and dresses in an exquisite white dress that was beautiful in its simplicity. Her arm rested on the arm of a regal Elf, dressed in silver with long, straight hair and a serious expression that Eowyn felt could express just as much happiness. Both had clear, blue eyes, and the eyes of the Lady sparkled with age and depth. 

"Galadriel, the Lady of the Golden Wood," whispered Elladan, "And her husband Celeborn. They are some of the few High Elves now left in Middle Earth."

Eowyn instinctively sank to the ground upon her knees and bowed her head, and she saw that Arwen and her brothers did the same. Galadriel now stood before them, and Eowyn was struck with many impressions all at once, of age and wisdom and suffering. She drew in her breath. 

"Fast you have traveled," she heard a soft voice speak, old and young, wonderful and terrible, "A journey has ended, and a journey is yet to begin. Rise, Arwen Daughter of Elrond, and Eowyn daughter of Eomund." Slowly they rose, and Eowyn found herself level to the most beautiful face she had ever seen. It looked like the morning sun, and there was a smile forming about her lips. And then, she saw Arwen smile a shy smile, and it seemed to her that Arwen was incredibly young. 

"Daer-naneth," spoke the Queen of Gondor, "Daer-adar." 

"Arwen-daughter," Celeborn said, "I am glad that you have come." There was now a definite smile about his face, and he stepped forward to embrace his granddaughter. 

Galadriel reached up and touched Arwen cheek. "You are with child," she said rather than asked. 

"Yes," said Arwen, "This babe will come in the spring."

"Endings and beginnings," Galadriel said, "As we fade from this Middle Earth, a new life comes here." She stepped over and lightly embraced her. 

"Lady of Rohan," Eowyn found herself surprised to be spoken to, "Or is it Lady of Ithilien?" Celeborn looked at her kindly.  

"No, milord," Eowyn said, a bit flustered, "It is a fortnight yet before the Prince of Ithilien and I will wed."

"He is a good man," said Celeborn, "The Elves have watched him for many years. You will be happy, the Valar be blessed."

"It is only a fortnight to your wedding and yet you have come here with the Evenstar?" another voice asked, and the Lady of the Wood herself was speaking.

"Yes," said Eowyn, daring and not daring to look into the eyes of the Lady, "I do not wish to remain behind in Minas Tirith if it can be helped, milady."

"You are a brave woman," Galadriel replied, "And we have much to thank you for. You lifted a great evil from the land."

"It is not me that you need thank," Eowyn demurely replied, "For there were many that helped me. The Darkness would have come and claimed me if Elessar had not healed my body and Faramir healed my soul."

Galadriel smiled. Then, another figure stepped out of the shadows, and Arwen, who had been quietly looking about for while. Smiling, she said, "Ada."

"Arwen." Elrond, smiled back at his daughter, and Eowyn saw that aside from Aragorn, this was the man that Arwen loved most. It suddenly struck her that she must love Aragorn a great deal, to remain behind on this Earth when all her family would soon pass from this land. 

Arwen merely embraced her father, and the action spoke ages. 


End file.
